


A Life Before the Storm

by lizziecorday



Series: Tumblr Prompts (Macbeths) [1]
Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizziecorday/pseuds/lizziecorday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of tumblr prompt one shots revolving around the lives of the Macbeths before the play begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flowers and Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the prompt “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

It was very late by the time they arrived back at Inverness. One of Macbeth’s cousins had gotten married and they spent more time than expected at the banquet. 

They had both had quite a bit to drink, probably more than was polite had anyone been counting. Macbeth helped his wife down from the horse, letting the servants take it back to the stables. 

“It snowed while we were gone.” She murmured, stopping to look at the fresh, white snow. 

“Indeed, it did. Come on, let’s go inside where it’s warm.” He was a few paces ahead of her, not noticing what she was up to until he felt the snowball hit his back.

Gruoch giggled, already balling up another snowball by the time he turned around. 

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare throw that snowba-” It hit him right in the chest this time. She laughed again, covering her mouth with her hand, “You’ve asked for it then.” He balled up a snowball of his own, throwing it at her and missing, on purpose of course, which only made her laugh harder. 

“I though you were a soldier, aren’t soldiers supposed to have good aim.” She teased, gathering up more snow to throw at him. 

“Come here.” He growled playfully. She shrieked and laughed as he lunged for her, dropping the snow she had gathered and tried to run from him. Unfortunately, he was faster than her and within moments, managed to capture her in his arms. He lifted her off the ground, spinning around and around until they were dizzy. Her laughter echoed through the night air as they fell backwards onto the snow. 

Laying in the snow, with her on top of him, he could help but admire how beautiful she looked, cheeks dusted pink from the cold, flowers from the wedding woven in her hair which now contained flakes of snow. Her eyes were shining like the stars above and he wanted to capture this moment in his mind and remember it forever. 

“What?” She giggled, “What is it?” He hadn’t realized just how long he had been staring up at her. 

“Nothing.” He murmured, giving her a soft peck on the lips, “Just admiring those flowers in your hair.” 

She moved off of him, standing and then helping him to his feet. “Look, it’s started to snow again.” She whispered, looking up at the sky, the flakes slowly descending down from the heavens, just as she had point out. 

“Shall we go inside?” He murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her towards the doors, “We could use some warming up.” 

She nodded, “I’m sure there is already a fire going in our room.” 

He grinned cheekily, “Oh, my chuck, I wasn’t talking about warming up by a fire.” 


	2. Jam the Shade of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macbeth shot up at the sound of her scream, running to her side to support her as he feared that she may faint judging by the look on her face. “It’s not what it looks like, Gruoch, it’s not what you think.”

She couldn’t have left him alone for more than an hour and a half. However, that hour and a half was just enough for Findley and his father to create a scene that frightened her half to death. 

Between Findley being ill and the banquet that they were supposed to be hosting quickly approaching, Lady Macbeth had barely had a chance to breathe. Now that their son was finally feeling better, Macbeth insisted that his wife go outside and get some fresh air. She hadn’t left Findley’s side since the first night he had fallen ill, and she was in much need of some time to herself. 

“You have more than earned some time out in the sun away from the sick room, my dear.” He murmured, pressing kisses into her hair. “I can look after the lad for an hour or two, it shan’t be a problem.” 

“But his…” 

He cut her off with a soft kiss, “Do you not believe I am capable of watching over a little child?” He prodded her side as she let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Of course I believe that you are capable, but…” He stopped her again.

“If you believe I am capable than there is really no reason to protest. Now go, just for a little while.”She opened her mouth to say more, but he shooed her out of the room, giving her one more cheeky kiss before shutting the door behind her. 

* * *

After a bit of wondering around in her garden and tending to her plants, she heading back to Findley’s room, anxious to see how her boys were fairing. 

As soon as she came upon the room, her face turned white as a sheet and she screamed, horrified. There was blood  _everywhere_. One the floor, the walls, the sheets, a dagger in the corner and worst of all, covering her husband and son who were laying on the bed. 

Macbeth shot up at the sound of her scream, running to her side to support her as he feared that she may faint judging by the look on her face. “It’s not what it looks like, Gruoch, it’s not what you think.” He lead her to a chair, helping to sit her down, “It’s jam, it’s berries, not blood.” He held his finger “bloody” finger to her lips so she could taste, “See? Jam, don’t fret.” 

She still looked horrified, looking from him, to their son, to the dagger. 

“All the knives are being cleaned and polished for the banquet, so I used the dagger for Findley’s jam and bread.” He rubbed her arms, holding her tightly, “You mustn’t fret, your wee lad would rather play with his food than eat it, that’s all.” 

She relaxed as he explained to her how Findley had asked if he could help spread the jam on the bread and had accidentally spilt it on the two of them. 

“I thought you said you could handle him.” She teased, getting up from her chair and walking over to sit by the bed. Findley, being a fairly heavy sleeper, had not woken at the sound of her cry earlier. 

“It seems I may have underestimated him.” 

As the whispered to one another, Findley began to wake, “Mai…” He yawned, rubbing his eyes. 

“Yes, my sweet, Mai’s here.” She murmured, kissing his forehead, “I see you had quite a bit of fun with your jam.”  


End file.
